


lead me with your hands tied

by TheSpazzBot



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Bottom Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Pining, ah shit here we go again
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:22:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28979562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpazzBot/pseuds/TheSpazzBot
Summary: In the midst of a crumbling kingdom at war, Levi Ackerman is commissioned by King Grisha Jaeger to paint a portrait of his overzealous son.--"You don't think I'm worthy enough to be the king?" Eren asked."No, I think you're a spoiled brat who would rather play with pomp and circumstance than save his own people from starvation," Levi spat.
Relationships: Levi/Eren Yeager
Comments: 75
Kudos: 371





	1. Chapter 1

He was beautiful.

And Levi hated him. 

Hated the entire royal family, in fact. It was no subject of contention that the long-standing war with the neighboring kingdom of Marley had caused many of the subjects to feel the same sentiment. Too many had been lost in a pointless war that seemed to be nothing more than a glorified pissing match between two old men. 

The results of the near decade long conflict were evident in the starving bodies perched pathetically against the crumbling stone walls of the houses that once provided comfort and warmth. For many, the only things the homes represented anymore was a stark reminder of what had been unwillingly stripped from them. 

The carriage rattled along the stretch of the dirt road, plumes of dust traveling off the large wheels and into the air behind them. Sighing, Levi leaned back into the plush seat. It would serve him well to remember why he had been called upon to travel such a distance to confer with the King of Shiganshina, and it certainly wasn’t to help rehabilitate a long-forgotten populace. 

The journey from Mitras had been exceptionally uneventful. The poor bastard of a coachman who had the unfortunate task of escorting Levi to the castle had attempted some small talk at the beginning of their voyage. However, it became quickly apparent that Levi was much more content with listening to the wind whistle past his ears than the ramblings of an underpaid deliveryman. 

Three days later, they had arrived in the heart of Shiganshina, greeted by the cries of hungry babes and the moans of dying men. 

He had not traveled to capital city since he was a young teen accompanying his uncle on one of the man’s dubious business trips. Levi remembers the life and energy that used to ebb from the streets. Vendors smiled as they echoed their prices into the air. Children laughed and dashed throughout the streets in a game of tag. Existence was peaceful, not this dismal skeleton of a life once lived. 

Levi wondered silently how the people would react to the news of his arrival. Knowing that the king was spending precious coin to commission an artist rather than keep his villages fed. He doubted they would be very surprised. 

The commission had arrived in the form of a letter, ominous and bearing the king’s crest. At first, Levi had been sure it was an order of arrest - positive that some of Kenny’s misdealings had fallen to his unlucky nephew. Half expected a unit of royal soldiers to be shortly following. However, instead, the letter contained a request. Odd for the King of Shiganshina, who usually seemed to only demand, demand, _demand._

The details in the letter were cryptic. All he knew was that His Majesty had requested his presence in order to commission his skills in capturing the youngest Jaeger on canvas. Remembered the taste of bile in his throat at the mere thought of appearing in front of the king. He wasn’t afraid. No, more so disgusted. The royal family was nothing more than a herd of filthy pigs bathing in riches instead of mud. 

Hopefully, though, those riches were going to save him from the poor house. Contrary to what the fine silk waistcoat and dark wool breeches might lead one to believe, Levi had lost the last of his funds long ago. No one wanted to commission a painting in the middle of a goddamn war. No one but His Majesty, it seemed. 

Regardless, who was he to deny a king?

 _A dead man,_ Levi thought.

“We’re approaching the gate, sir.” The coachman declared, voice muffled by the sound of hooves against the dirt. Icy eyes scanned ahead, spotting the extended drawbridge. The castle walls were intimidating. Despite the decaying state of the village, the fortress seemed no worse for wear. Grey stone walls stretched up into parapets, shielding the Shiganshina archers standing to attention as Levi approached the portcullis. 

“The defenses are quite impressive,” Levi stated absentmindedly as he glanced upwards at the battlements. 

“Ha! Thinking of storming the castle, are you?” 

“I’m afraid that I am hardly equipped to lay siege on Shiganshina,” Levi relayed, eyes drifting over to his bag of materials. The coachman’s shoulders shook in amusement as the carriage drifted beneath the large iron gate. 

Metal clanged and rattled the air as Levi observed multiple soldiers training off near the barracks. They seemed skilled enough for a group of soldiers who couldn’t seem to finish a bloody war. Levi’s fists clenched. 

“His Majesty will be expecting you this evening, sir.” 

Levi grunted, shifting to rest his chin on a still tightened fist as he observed the passing scenery. The courtyard was bustling, a sharp contrast to the village resting beyond the gate. Faces were brighter and spirits seemed joyful as Levi watched the numerous soldiers and servants converse. Maybe there was an end in sight, after all. 

They came to a slow stop in front of the keep. Like the rest of the castle, it was imposing. The Jaeger family crest hung proudly against the sides of the stone walls. Levi couldn’t help but sneer. 

He gathered his belongings, a simple brown bag that did the job of carrying his supplies. The coachman jostled the carriage as the hefty man jumped down from his post. As the carriage door was opened, Levi muttered his thanks, stepping out onto the cobblestone.

“You must be Mr. Ackerman.” He turned to find a woman waiting for him on the steps of the keep. She was a servant, which was clear enough from her attire. Strawberry hair was pushed behind her ears to reveal a petite, cherub face painted with a faint smile and large dark eyes. “I’m Petra Ral. His Majesty sent me to fetch you once he heard word that you had arrived.” 

Levi hummed, flexing his fingers around the handle of his bag. “A pleasure.” 

“I’ll escort you to your room to bathe. I’m sure you’re eager to rinse away the long journey.” More than she probably knew. The thought of sinking into warm water was enough to have his toes curling. 

“That would be most appreciated.” She nodded, turning on her heel to venture back up the stairs into the keep. His ankle ached as he trekked behind her, the result of an old childhood injury that never saw proper medical care. The sting was not usually this noticeable, but the joint was rebuking being sedentary for so long on the trip from Mitras. When he finally reached the top, Petra seemed none the wiser to his lameness. 

The large and robust castle doors had been thrown open in anticipation of his arrival. Designed to resist even the strongest of armies. He paused, breath caught in the back of his throat as he contemplated the consequences of turning back. Of bribing the coachman with promises of future payment in return for a speedy voyage back to Mitras. Thinking of the worst thing that could happen should he void his duty to meet the king in the flesh.

_Your head on a spike, that’s what._

Swallowing hard, Levi continued forward, grip just a little bit tighter on his bag.

“Everything alright, sir?” 

Levi cleared his throat, “Wonderful.” Petra gave him a smile in return, but this one didn’t quite reach her eyes. Made him believe that maybe she had already seen through his facade.

The castle doors had opened into a large foyer, walls decorated in rich velvets and detailed paintings. At the center of it all was a grand staircase, cascading upwards into the higher regions of the keep. Levi tried not to appear too mystified. 

However, Petra did not give him time to gawk, moving forward toward a narrow hallway. He increased his pace, reasoning that this castle was the last place he would like to find himself lost. The destination was not too much further, only around one more bent hallway and three doors to the right.

Two servant girls giggled over the bath as he entered the room, steam emitting from the water below. 

“Ladies, I see your work is done.” The two girls immediately stiffened, faces blanched in shock. “Off with you then.” Petra waved her hand, the staff quickly shuffling out of the room and closing the door behind them. “Will you need any assistance bathing, sir?”

Levi almost swallowed his tongue, tips of his ears warming in embarrassment. “Absolutely not.” 

Petra muffled a chuckle behind her hand. “As you wish, sir.” He adverted his eyes from her seemingly all-knowing gaze. He had hardly spoken a few words to the woman, and he already felt like she knew too much. “I shall take my leave. I will return once you are finished bathing, sir.” Levi nodded, placing his bag next to a large brown coffer. 

The door opened with a quiet creak and closed with the same tune. A rush of air left his lungs as soon as he felt sure he was alone. 

“Shit,” he whispered, pulling his cravat free from his throat. Placing the fabric neatly over the furniture, he began to undress. Peeling away layers of clothes that symbolized something he never was. Probably never would be. 

Levi cringed. 

If he were a superstitious fool, he would believe this was all fate setting up some great challenge. Sending him into the lion’s den, as it were, to face the ones so despised and loathed. He was nothing more than an artist, though. An artist here to collect a sum of coin and return back to Mitras a richer man. 

As he sunk into the bathwater, he continued to remind himself even as images of the near dying flashed across his mind. An artist - nothing more nothing less. 

_An artist who wanted to kill the king._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m back on my angsty bullshit. 👍🏻
> 
> leave a comment if you enjoyed - i always appreciate them!  
> also, this fic is probably in the realms of very much NOT historically accurate. 
> 
> [tumblr](http://fuzzyporcupine.tumblr.com)  
> [fanmix](https://8tracks.com/thespazzbot/lead-me-with-your-hands-tied)


	2. Chapter 2

Levi’s eyes were closed when the door to his room was opened once more. 

“Enjoying your bath, sir?”

Startled, his limbs flailed in the water, soaking the tiles below. Cursing beneath his breath, Levi turned his gaze to give a half-hearted glare at the girl. Her hands were full of linens and fabrics, meant for him, he supposed. “It’s fine,” Levi finally answered, shoulders relaxing as he attempted to lean back comfortably into the tub. “Where’s Petra?”

“Oh, the Madam is preparing your studio, sir.” The girl nervously shuffled her feet, a piece of dark brown hair gracing her cheek as she shifted. “I’ve been told to bring you a change of clothes.” Levi opened his mouth to interject. “The Madam insisted,” the girl spoke before she could hear any complaints. “I’ll just gather your things and return them after they are washed, sir.” His consent was apparently not required as the girl dropped the linens off onto the bed and began collecting his items off the coffer. She was quick, pale hands hastily gathering his belongings. However, when her grasp hovered over the white cravat, Levi jolted upwards.

The sudden movement caught the girl’s attention, downturned olive eyes seeking out an answer to the distraction. 

“I’ll…” He felt trapped between her leering and the tiny confines of the bath. “Leave it.” Her hand was still floating in midair above the object, thin brows now furrowed in question. Levi swallowed hard, hands beginning to slip on the sides of the tub. He didn’t want to explain - shouldn’t have to - to some servant girl why he insisted on washing something as inconsequential as a cravat. It wasn’t made of some rare, expensive material. Hadn’t been passed down from generation to generation. It was a simple item of clothing that, nonetheless, had Levi going white-knuckled. 

The girl seemed to notice, curious stare fading into a look of something that appeared close to understanding. “Yes, sir.” Her hand dropped audibly to her side. “Of course.” She shuffled out of the room quietly, leaving him anxious and hung over the side of the bathtub like a true and tried idiot. 

He looked down at the tile where a large puddle of water had congregated from his splashing. Stared at his warbled reflection as it shook and rippled with every drop that fell from his head. Wanted to reach inside that image and shake the bastard’s shoulders. To rip all those tainted, gruesome memories out of that mind. 

_That poor, poor mind._

There was a feeling pooling in his gut. Fear? Disgust? He couldn’t pin it. Only knew that the water which once felt like a sanctuary from all of travel’s aches and pains was starting to slowly drown him. 

The tile was cold against his bare feet and toes curled as an unpleasant shiver traveled down his spine. The chill quickened his pace to the bed, eager to examine the clothing brought before him. Levi was almost positive that nothing would fit properly. He was, as loathe as he was to admit it, a small man. His uncle had always chucked the lack of growth up to Levi’s malnutrition as a child. But Kenny was no doctor, and Levi tended to never believe a single sinister word that weaseled out from those thin lips. 

Fingers twitched anxiously at the thought of dragging their touch across the fine fabrics laid out across the bed. The dark blues and soft beiges complimented each other wonderfully, and Levi secretly hoped that the king would not be expecting the items back after he was finished with the commission. The linen glided effortlessly over his skin, smooth and soft. Surprisingly fitted, as well. Levi would have to thank Petra for her keen eye, he thought. 

No sooner than he had finished fastening the last button of his tailcoat, the door creaked open again. This time, however, it was Petra’s face that greeted him and not a nosey servant girl. 

“I take it the attire is suitable?” Her hands had migrated to her hips, and Levi couldn’t help but feel like a child who was about to be scolded. Maybe the servant girl had said he was an ass. More likely Petra just had a good intuition. 

“Not bad,” Levi said, hands running down the front of his cinched waistcoat. 

“Glad to hear it, sir.” Petra hesitated, mouth opening and closing as if she were trying to find the right words. “You scared poor Emmie to death, you know?” she finally spoke. Levi pressed his lips tightly together, not necessarily keen on the idea of a refreshment course in etiquette. “She said you near leaped out of the tub like a madman.” 

Levi scoffed, “I think your poor Emmie may be suffering from a case of exaggeration.” 

Petra’s lips quirked at that, the stern look in her temple softening a touch as she regarded the man. “She didn’t seem to think so, Mr. Ackerman. You had the girl in practical tears.”

“I tend to have that effect on women.”

Petra huffed overdramatically, “Of that I’m sure." Levi was positively certain that he should be affronted by the agreement. There was a mischievous twinkle in the woman's eye that begged otherwise. “Come now. The studio awaits.” 

Levi brightened at the thought. He had traveled so far, and the idea of the studio was the only thing that he was sincerely looking forward to. To hell with the royal family. Levi just wanted to paint. 

Petra led him down the hall, under the vast stone arches that supported the great structure. Their footsteps were muffled by the expanse of red that flowed from the singular carpet extending down the path. It was a rich, luxurious scarlet that brought warmth into an otherwise cold corridor. Beyond the rug, there was no other color. Only a bland variance in the shades of grey amongst the stone walls. It was a stark difference to the vibrant Jaeger family crests that flew their proud viridescence along the castle like a silent battle cry. 

_Or silent subjugation,_ Levi thought.

They paused at a twisted, metal staircase - the thing looking archaic and out of place amongst the brick and mortar. 

“It’s this way,” Petra said as she lifted the hem of her dress. “Watch your step, sir. The stairs can be most unforgiving should you take a fall.” Levi imagined his head splitting open like a melon against the thick stone walls. To be fair, the splash of red would do the hollow halls a favor. However, the color would, ultimately, clash with the carpet.

He held on tightly to the narrow stair rail. It was rusted beneath his hands, a rogueish vermilion staining the black metal. The steps ached and creaked loudly in opposition to his frame being carried up their spine. Thankfully, the journey did not ascend too high, only above to the next floor. It was here that Levi was met with a door. A large, black door that seemed more imposing than all the castle grandeurs combined. 

“We had to improvise where to place the studio,” Petra explained. “There’s been no need of one since the young Majesty’s mother passed.”

Ah, yes, Levi remembered her. Well, at least remembered hearing the tales. He’d never been so lucky as to meet the woman in the flesh. The beautiful and elegant Carla Jaeger. Shiganshina was truly a different land with the queen on the throne. Her peaceful hand helped keep the king’s tumultuous relationship with Marley in check. Some say it was her doing altogether. There was truly no one better fit to rule over the people. And then she died. Suddenly and with no warning, leaving Shiganshina with a manic king and two motherless sons. Soon after, the fragile peace with Marley had launched into an all-out war. 

The residents of Shiganshina could do nothing but watch the world around them crumble while silently mourning the loss. 

“A shame,” he murmured, sharp eyes studying the intricate patterns warped into the wood of the door. Looked a lot more likely the room would be housing an alchemist’s laboratory than an artist's workshop.

“Indeed.” Petra voice had lost the giddy edge, and she wrung dainty hands as the true intent of Levi’s comment weighed heavily in the air. It appeared that not only the villagers were still feeling the ill effects of the queen’s loss. The woman seemed to steel herself as she took a deep breath, “Forgive me, Mr. Ackerman. You’ve only just arrived, and I am already burdening you with unpleasant memories. You must think me a very poor excuse for a housekeeper.” 

“It’s no trouble-”

“We shall make a glorious evening of this yet!” A pale fist was raised high into the air as she beamed with triumph. Levi couldn’t help but offer her a subtle upturn at the corner of his mouth. 

“Come, look at what we've pieced together for you,” Petra said as she pulled on the large, bronze handle. “I’m sure you’ll be absolutely marveled.” Levi had his suspicions. It was foolish to think that the king knew a single element that would be required of an adequate studio.

The entrance opened with a satisfying click, followed by a long drawn-out creak that preceded a breeze of cold air from the other side. 

And then, _light_.

The room was positively bathing in it. 

Vertical windows lined the outer wall, reaching nearly from floor to ceiling. The effects of the evening sun shone unconstrained through the glass, painting the room in a bewitching orange glow. So, the king did know something about the art of portraiture after all. Or perhaps this was all Petra’s doing. Turning to look at the bright, expectant smile lighting up her features, Levi suspected it was the latter. 

There was miscellaneous furniture placed throughout the room. A plush green sofa, purple needlepoint armchairs, a rustic wooden bureau. However, what stood out most of all to him was the fireplace. Elegantly crafted from carved stone and decorated with hints of teal and gold, the fireplace seemed to perfectly embody the image of an ideal royal heir. Strong and bold, yet handsome and rich. Levi detested the thought of comparing it to a spoiled brat, but couldn’t deny that the object would be the perfect backdrop to the painting. 

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Petra’s smile had not faded as she stood in the doorway. Levi felt a bit like their roles had been reversed - Petra morphing from chastising mother to expectant child eagerly waiting for praise. He indulged her, giving a quick nod of his head.

“You’ve done well, Ms. Ral. I look forward to capturing the prince’s likeness here.” The words were a half-truth. To paint again and be compensated for his talents, that was what he yearned for. The damn dirty prince could burn in a thousand hells as far as Levi was concerned.

“I am honored, truly, sir.” Petra bowed lowly. He stiffened, not accustomed to the actions one would typically reserve for nobles and royalty. If only the woman knew that she was most undoubtedly wealthier than the man to whom she so easily bent her head. “I will have one of my girls bring your supplies here if that is quite alright?” He could easily manage this on his own, but Levi was positive that Petra had certainly already sent one of the servant girls into his room. Agreeing with her now was simply common courtesy. 

Levi made a vague noise of approval. “Of course.” He turned to begin a more thorough inspection of the studio when the sound of quickened footfall called his gaze. 

“Oh, Mr. Ackerman, I’m sure that you are eager to get to work, but you must remember.” Levi quirked a suspicious brow. “I said this would be a _most_ glorious evening. What is a magnificent affair without a proper meal to finish off the day?” Petra looked at him as if she were anticipating an answer, but Levi fancied that the woman would enlighten him without his query. “His Majesty has ordered the chef to prepare the finest venison and vegetables I’m sure you’ve ever indulged upon. You are the guest of honor, after all.” Levi tried not to let his expression sour. This was inevitable, wasn’t it? He could not very well manage to paint a picture of the king’s son without at least meeting the royal family first. The thought alone made Levi’s skin itch.

"That's not necessary," he tried, tongue heavy in his mouth as he searched for a suitable escape. 

"Oh, don't be silly, Mr. Ackerman," Petra laughed, "I'm sure you are absolutely famished. And His Majesty insisted, after all." Levi felt his face morph into a sneer as his jaw tightened. 

_His Majesty insisted._

_Of course_ , the bastard insisted. 

“As His Majesty orders.” Hopefully, the venom in his tone was not too apparent. If it was, Levi would simply blame it on the journey. A strenuous voyage could make any man affable. Petra's smile fell, and Levi inwardly cringed. He'd have to watch his mouth, the damned thing it was. Got him in a fair amount of scuffles in his youth. However, the stakes here were much higher than a black eye or bloody nose. “Lead the way,” he continued, trying not to sound so incredibly vexed. Petra nodded silently, all former excitement replaced with a disposition as if she’d just sentenced a man to place his head on the block.

“Certainly. Please follow me, sir.” She quickly turned on her heel, the bounce in her step replaced with a rigid tread. Thin nostrils contracted as he heaved a deep sigh. 

_This was inevitable,_ Levi reminded himself. And he began his march towards the dining hall, leaving the cold chill of the studio behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know eren hasn't been introduced yet, please don't come for me :(((  
> [tumblr](http://fuzzyporcupine.tumblr.com)  
> [fanmix](https://8tracks.com/thespazzbot/lead-me-with-your-hands-tied)


	3. Chapter 3

The dining room he had been ushered into was extravagant, if not slightly small. Levi said as much, curious as to how the king managed to entertain his multitude of guests in such an enclosed area. 

“That’s what the great hall is for, sir,” Petra answered as if it were obvious, and maybe it was to the rich nobles who frequented the king’s presence. But regardless of what the castle staff was led to believe, he’d never made merry with the clients who commissioned his work. It was always a job and nothing more. Often, he didn’t even share more than a few words with the nobles, those typically being instructions to move their leg forward, hold their head higher, or _keep still goddammit_. 

The housekeeper was usually his point of contact during all his projects, and until Petra mentioned dinner, he was fairly certain it would stay that way. Of course, he knew that it would be expected for him to eventually meet the king and present the artwork - but the pleasantries of having dinner… this was new to him.

“His Majesty will be arriving shortly, sir. Please make yourself comfortable.” The stiffness in Petra’s tone was still evident even after their long walk from the studio. She didn’t bother with keeping up appearances this time, skipping her curtsy altogether as she hastily exited the room. Levi silently cursed himself, hoping that upon Petra’s leave an armed guard wouldn’t be arriving to charge him with treason. He had to be more mindful. This was a dangerous place to show discontent, regardless of the intentions.

His palms had become damp with sweat, and Levi grimaced as he wiped the excess moisture off onto his beige breeches. 

The sound of boots clicking against the wooden floors echoed loudly within the confines of the small room as Levi ventured closer to the table and chairs positioned in the middle of the chamber. A crystal chandelier hung delicately above the table, white gems glittering brilliantly in the orange radiance of dusk filtering in through the large windows. There were too many crystals to count as Levi tried to estimate how much the almost entirely useless decoration was probably worth. 

_Enough to feed the surrounding villages for months - no, years,_ he thought bitterly.

“It’s beautiful, no?” The deep voice caused his shoulders to twitch upward. He turned on his heel, breath held deep in his chest and ready to face the worst. The man standing before him was not who he expected - tall and broad-shouldered with striking blue eyes. Most importantly, though, the man was definitely not the king. The lack of a crown placed upon his blonde hair was evidence enough. “It was a gift for the queen. Two years before her passing, rest her soul.” His eyes roved suspiciously down the man’s face, widened when he observed the attire the man was wearing. The dark green cotton pulled tight across the man’s chest with gleaming silver buttons, a bright, yellow epaulet fashioning his left shoulder.

 _Military_ , Levi reasoned as a chill traveled darkly down his spine. He would be able to spot one of the uniforms from a hundred yards away if given the chance. Would never forget a single detail of the men who brought so much destruction into his life. He suddenly felt sick, head filling with seemingly millions of images of fires and screaming and- 

“Are you well, sir?” _This shitting bastard,_ Levi thought as he grit his teeth.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, hands reaching out blindly for something to steady him. God, it felt as if he had fallen right back into that place once again. Swept up by the ash of the burning buildings and the adrenaline coursing through his veins. 

“You look deathly. I’ll fetch Ms. Ral.”

“I’m _quite_ alright, dammit,” Levi bit out between clenched teeth, grip finally connecting with the top rail of a chair. The world was fading back into view now. What was once plumes of smoke and burning embers melted away to reveal the shiny sheen of the mahogany table. “I’m fine,” he said again, more to reassure himself than the blonde bastard who was quirking an impressive eyebrow at his display. 

The other man breathed in heavily through his nose. “Quite,” he agreed. Levi didn’t miss the sardonic edge to the man’s voice as he pulled a chair out far enough from the table to slide into the velvet seat. His grip tightened on the top rail. Wanted to lift the object into the air and use it to break the goddamned whoreson’s neck. Instead, he followed the man’s lead and shakily entered his own seat at the table. A stale silence filled the air, one that Levi was most certainly not going to break. He was perfectly content with brewing in the solitude until the king arrived. His company, however, seemed to have other plans. 

“So, you must be the artist the king commissioned,” the man started. Levi looked up, blinking, only to find the man staring intently at him. It was offputting, the way the man seemed to glare straight into the backs of his eyes as if Levi were an open book ripe for the taking. Had his lip twitching in annoyance as his fingers began to chatter against the smooth surface in front of him.

“I am,” he answered plainly.

“Hmm,” the man leaned back into his seat, a smirk cracking the corner of his lips. “Then it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ackerman.” Thick arms crossed over the man’s chest. “I hope your stay has been pleasurable so far?”

“Incredibly.” _Where was this damned king?_

“Are you nervous, Mr. Ackerman?” Suddenly, the air felt as if it had been sucked clean from his lungs. Fingers stilled against the table as Levi regarded the man.

“What did you say?” He tried not to let his voice shake. Levi had a creeping superstition that the man sitting across from him was analyzing his every octave. 

“A mere observation, Mr. Ackerman,” the man shrugged. “You look as if you’d rather be locked in a cage with an angry bear than preparing to feast with Your Majesty.” If Levi had feathers, he’d be ruffling them. And the man- _damn him_ \- the man knew it. Bloody hell, he needed a drink.

“Maybe you are simply being too presumptive, sir.”

“General,” the man corrected with a grin. “General Erwin Smith.”

“General Smith,” he tested the name on his tongue and decided it tasted exactly like ash. 

“Well, I’m sure you’re weary from the long journey. I hear you traveled from Mitras?” 

Levi scoffed, growing frustrated with the man’s badgering, “And we sang songs about taking a merry shit all the way here.”

Erwin opened his mouth to undoubtedly ask Levi another infuriating question when the entrance to the dining room was abruptly pulled open. The general promptly pushed forward out of his chair to stand, and Levi followed to do the same. Two soldiers passed through the door first, immediately taking their place on either side of the entrance as they faced forward, looking ahead. Levi’s stomach dropped as he watched the next figure emerge into the room. 

Dressed in fine white robes and golden jewels, the king exuded royalty. The crown, in all its glimmering glory, nestled atop dark brown locks that curved comfortably along the king’s shoulders. As the entrance closed quietly behind the man, another opened, ushering in half a dozen servants carrying trays of various sizes. One who had appeared empty-handed quickly moved to pull the chair back for the king. The servant couldn’t have been older than ten, and Levi soberly wondered how many more children were hidden behind the stone walls of the castle serving the monarch. Once the king was seated, Erwin followed suit as did Levi. He assumed the general knew the correct protocol to follow in the presence of royalty. Going off blind faith wasn’t ideal, especially faith being entrusted in a scheming military man. But unfortunately, Levi had no experience in dining with the ruler of a kingdom. 

The dishes were placed accordingly onto the table once everyone settled. The food, Levi had to admit, smelled wonderful, and it caused his stomach to grumble impatiently. Perhaps he was more famished than he thought. 

“Fetch the wine,” the king demanded, waving his hand absentmindedly. One of the servants scurried off through the door, quickly returning with a large pitcher. Levi’s chalice was filled soon after the king’s, the dark red liquid threatening to spill over the rim. “That is all. Leave us.” And with the command, the servants vanished as swiftly as they had appeared. The king took a large swig of the wine, smacking his lips as his gaze turned towards Levi. “I take it your journey wasn’t too arduous, painter?”

Levi swallowed thickly, “No, Your Majesty. It was most pleasant.” The words sounded alien leaving his lips. A complete fraud of what he truly wanted to tell the treacherous snake. 

“And apparently filled with festive song, Your Majesty,” Erwin added, throwing a knowing smirk in Levi’s direction. _If looks could kill,_ he thought. 

The king grinned none the wiser, teeth shining beneath a thin mustache. “Ah, a musician and a painter! I’m sure the coachman was thoroughly amused by your antics. Speaking of, Erwin, did the coachman bring any news from Mitras?” 

“Some villagers attempting to build a militia. Nothing the guard couldn’t snuff out, Your Majesty.” Levi’s mouth went dry. He _knew_ those villagers. Fucking morons the lot of them, always blubbering in the pub about their plans to make the Jaegers pay for what they’d done. Levi didn’t think they would have the balls to actually make good on the schemes. Now, they were all probably dead or worse.

“Good riddance. Rotting vermin the lot of them,” the king surmised as he began to fill his plate. “The sooner these revolts cease, the sooner we can focus on the true enemy.” 

“Agreed, Your Majesty,” Erwin said, raising his chalice in assent. “To the glorious King Jaeger. May he quickly vanquish the Marleyan devil.” Levi’s hunger abruptly morphed into sickly nausea. The smells of a once mouth-watering feast now stinking of charred bodies and burning flesh. 

_You’re pathetic_ , a voice whispered to him. _Making merry with the man who had us killed._

“No,” he whispered.

And suddenly, the voice was gone, leaving him in the dead silence of a room full of enemies. The two men had stopped their toast, now leering suspiciously at Levi. The jovial expression that had previously shaped the king’s face was now replaced with a narrowed brow and a curled upper lip.

“No,” he repeated again, conviction lacing his voice. The king was standing now, shoulders hunched and fists forming at his sides. With a slightly shaking hand, Levi wrapped his palm around the handle of his chalice and lifted it into the air. “May he defeat _all_ the devils.” Levi watched as Erwin’s eyes closed heavily in relief, the man obviously not wanting the meal to be spoiled by an impromptu execution. The king sank back into the chair, his face contorting back into that fictional illusion of happiness. Levi met Erwin’s reawakened gaze as he spoke, “Death to the pigs.”

“Death to the pigs,” Erwin repeated.

Just as he’d raised his drink to his lips to commemorate the toast, the dining room door was swung open with a loud bang. 

“Sire, please!” He faintly heard Petra’s pleading, the sound growing increasingly more desperate the closer the footsteps got. “You are in no state!”

“Let go of me, you damned woman!” The two guards posted at the entrance curiously peeked around the edge of the door frame only to quickly turn their focus back to their fronts. 

“Shall I go assist Ms. Ral, Your Majesty?” Erwin asked nonchalantly as he cut into his venison. 

“No, no. Thank you, Erwin, but I want the painter to see for himself the challenge he will be facing.” Levi was used to challenges. Hell, all of his commissions provided some sort of unforeseen difficulty that he had to work around. Surely, the spoiled brat of a prince would only be one more slight opposition that needed conquering.

The prince stumbled through the doors ungracefully, dressed in nothing but a pair of cream stockings and a simple white tunic. The man looked manic, long brunette locks tousled and tangled around the angles of his face. Large emerald eyes alight, all fire and anger as he regarded the trio. This was who he would be tasked with capturing. The wayward prince, Eren Jaeger. 

“Your Majesty, I apologize!” Petra’s arms were flailing as she rushed into the dining room. “I have tried to tell the young Majesty that he was not-” 

“Silence!” the prince yelled. Petra’s mouth snapped close. “I want to speak to my father, and I’ll bloody well do so with or without your approval.” The woman looked helplessly at the king, begging for some direction. When he granted her a silent nod, she gave the room a quick bow before making a swift exit.

“Well, my son, what causes you such dismay that you grace us in your undergarments?”

Levi watched as the prince’s fists clenched. “I’m in no mood to jest, father.”

“Nor am I, my son. Yet you appear in front of me as if there is some cruel joke of which I do not know its point.” Eren threw up his arms in disbelief, a humorless chuckle falling off his full lips. 

“The only joke is your choice to recruit Jean into serving in your ill-conceived military unit.” Eren took several threatening steps closer.

“The Kirstein boy? Your whoring and drinking pal? Ha! Maybe I do understand the purpose of this quip after all.” If possible, the prince’s brow furrowed even further. Levi did not understand the meaning of the display, couldn’t fathom why the king would allow the heir to the throne to embarrass himself like this. To prove the youngest Jaeger’s temper didn’t fall far on the family tree? Perhaps. 

“You laugh, old man, but you forget that his father is a duke. He is no mere peasant whose life you can expend so easily.” Levi’s eye twitched at that. To think that one human life was worth so much more than another. That a title and a plot of land made you invulnerable to the laws of mankind. How very fucking naïve. 

“And you forget your place, my son.” The king stood from his chair. “You have not only embarrassed yourself in front of General Smith but the painter I so humbly commissioned to render your likeness. Should he start now? Display a fine portrait of you in your stockings in the grand hall?” 

The man’s face reddened. “You…” Eren fumbled with his words, glancing between his father and Levi. “You… argh!” In a huff, the prince stomped angrily out of the dining room, throwing the door closed with a resolute smack. Levi was left gazing wide-eyed at the entrance, anxiously anticipating for the moment when the vexed prince would throw the door back open to began the argument anew. 

“Well, painter, what do you think? Still up to the challenge?” the king questioned. 

Levi pondered his answer for a moment. Now seemed like a perfectly reasonable time to take that drink. So, he did just that, allowing the wine to slide down his throat before addressing the king. “When do I begin, Your Majesty?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can we all just agree that frazzled eren is a mood? hope everyone is enjoying the story so far!!  
> [tumblr](http://fuzzyporcupine.tumblr.com)  
> [fanmix](https://8tracks.com/thespazzbot/lead-me-with-your-hands-tied)


	4. Chapter 4

The sun was high and hot in the sky. The summers in Shiganshina left hardly anyone unaware of their presence each year. The rays beat in boldly from the studio windows as Levi impatiently paced the floor. The prince should have appeared at least an hour ago. Levi had been quite clear with the instructions he passed along to Petra. _Arrive no later than midday,_ he’d said. And like the grand fool he was, Levi actually believed Eren Jaeger might heed his request. Yet there he stood, the afternoon shine beginning to warm his skin.

“To hell with it,” Levi muttered, low under his breath. He refused to spend the entire day waiting around like an eager hound after its master. 

Gathering his brushes from the easel, Levi carefully placed each tool on an expanse of brown leather. He began rolling the material, not unlike a baker kneading dough; pulling the leather tight enough to ensure that no brushes would fall loose and slip out unnoticed. The tasks were methodical, and Levi appreciated the simplicity in the quiet moments he often found himself after the muse had left. 

A piece of twine was wrapped around the bundle and pulled snuggly. Levi’s lip quirked in annoyance when he noticed the number of frays the rope had acquired. It would have to be replaced soon, he mentally noted. Levi was still inspecting the loose ends when the door creaked open loudly behind him.

“Leaving already?” Levi’s fingers slipped around the rough string as it fell from his hands. The prince leaned against the door frame, face full of mirth as he regarded Levi. Unlike their last encounter, this time the man was appropriately clothed. The black velvet of his tailcoat gleamed, highlighting strong shoulders and lithe arms. White breeches traced the curve of the man’s thighs down to the onyx riding boots trailing up beneath the knee. The man even looked as if he’d brushed his hair. Levi was understandably amazed. “We’ve not even started.”

“We should have started an hour ago, Your Highness.” Levi tried to keep the bite out of his tone.

A grin cracked across Eren’s face as he pushed himself off the frame. “Ah, you’re no fun. I see why father hired you.” Levi wanted to tell the cocky little shit that he wasn’t hired to be _fun_. He was hired to paint. Which he really would like to- “I’ve seen your work before, artist.” Levi’s breath caught in his throat.

“Oh?” he replied simply, watching as Eren moved closer. 

“Yes. On a holiday in Sina.” Levi tried not to cringe. Sina was a dreadful place, full of aristocrats with heads shoved deeply up their own asses. The man who’d commissioned the portrait was no different. Fat and smelly with a horrible disposition. A crook, as well, only paying Levi half of the agreed-upon price after the piece was completed.

“It was a portrait of a nobleman whose name I can’t quite recall. But I remember the painting, though.” Long, dexterous fingers danced up the side of the canvas Levi had set up prior to the arranged meeting time. “I think about how in awe I was, all the bright lines and dark shadows. It was so realistic.” The prince’s hand stilled on the canvas and stiffened around the edge, drawing Levi’s attention to the way the tanned skin tightened ever so delicately around the joints. “Hell, I imagine at the time I would have believed that painting hung in front of me to be more alive than the very man immortalized in it.” 

Levi bowed his head slightly. “I’m honored, Your Highness.” 

“Yes, I’m sure you are.” He tried not to be too off-put by the prince’s rebuttal. It had only been a night’s rest since he witnessed the man prance into the dining room in all his stockinged glory. No matter how self-assured Eren appeared to him now, Levi would always remember the prince as he truly was - a brat screaming about in his nightclothes.

“Tell me, artist, do you really want to be here?” He looked up at that, brows furrowed in a questioning glance. _Did he really want to be there?_ Levi knew the answer to the query, but he wondered how open to the truth the young prince truly was. Eren set him with a firm look, large green eyes alight with something Levi couldn’t quite place. “Answer me.” 

He clenched an empty fist and schooled his expression into an apathetic frown. “Of course, Your Highness.” The prince’s eye twitched at the way he spoke the words, dead and hollow. It was likely not the answer Eren was expecting. Probably guessed Levi would be falling to his knees in a physical display of unwavering loyalty. However, Levi would kneel for no man, especially not one as selfish and tone-deaf as the Prince of Shiganshina.

“I can’t tell if you are bold or simply stupid.” The prince’s voice held no malice, but Levi still bristled at the accusation. He may be a fool, but he was not stupid. “It’s treasonous to lie to a king.” Levi caught himself from rolling his eyes deep into his skull. He watched the so-called king cock his head to the side as a playful smile broke across his face. Eren was toying with him, and Levi couldn’t help but feel like a rabbit caught in a lethal trap. 

“My head should be safe on its shoulders then, Your Highness.” The prince’s smile didn’t falter. If anything, it spread further. 

“You’d make a fine jester shall you decide to abandon this artist’s plight.” Levi was wise enough to know when he was being teased. All the time spent in Kenny’s presence had hardened him to most mockery. However, watching Eren’s taunting smirk goad him from across the room was enough to send a burning wave of frustration beneath his skin. 

“If it pleases you, Your Highness, I would like to retire to my chambers.” Levi bowed the upper half of his body lowly while addressing the prince. He was unable to see the confoundment as it morphed into Eren’s face, but Levi surely heard the stutter in the tone as the prince rushed a reply. 

“N-no!” The sound mimicked a small child squealing after being denied a sweet treat. Eren quickly cleared his throat. “No, artist, it does _not_ please me. Has your existence here not been due to your ability to paint? I would assume mulling about in your chambers was not what my father requested.” 

“Nor was it to entertain long-winded conversations about my desire to be here, Your Highness,” Levi retorted tartly as he lifted his head. A fierce redness crept up above Eren’s high collar and extended past the man’s jawline. He watched as the muscles there tightened and silently wondered if Eren still thought of him to be so comical. 

His question was soundlessly answered as Levi observed the prince’s nostrils flare angrily. 

He didn’t back down from the glare tossed in his direction, instead challenging it head-on with his own gaze of indifference. Levi was not scared of the prince’s poor attempt at intimidation. He knew that beneath that veil of false confidence was simply a mutt trying to convince a sheep it was a wolf. Until the king’s crown rested upon Eren’s head, Levi knew that he had nothing to fear from the spoilt prince. 

A terse knock broke the strained silence, followed by the studio door creaking alive. 

“Mr. Ackerman, sorry to bother you. I’ve brought tea.” Petra’s voice cut sharply through the air as the sound of jostling porcelain followed her words. As if finally noticing the silent confrontation, the footfalls paused. “Is everything alright, Your Majesty?” 

The anger suddenly flooded from the prince’s face, being replaced with a melancholy discontent. Wordlessly, Eren shuffled past Petra and out into the hall, abandoning Levi with the woman who seemed prepared to ask a thousand questions. 

He took a deep, heavy breath in through his nose, shoulders relaxing on the exhale. “My apologies, Ms. Ral.” Levi turned to face her. “I will bring the tea to my chambers if that is satisfactory.” 

Petra nodded, “Of course, sir.” They stood in uneasy silence for what felt like hours, Levi too awkward to excuse himself and Petra far too polite. He watched as her bottom lip was worried harshly until finally, her thoughts became audible. “Mr. Ackerman, if I may?” Levi offered no opposition, and the woman took the silence for what it was. “The prince is stubborn and willful and outrageously frustrating.” He quirked a brow, wondering where this insult was leading. “But he has suffered more than most. I’ve watched him grow up experiencing things no child should ever have to witness. He…” Petra paused and heaved a deep sigh. “He is not as you have constructed in your mind, sir.”

“And how would you know what image that may be?” Levi sneered, shoulders straightening ever slightly. 

“You hold the same fury in your eyes as the whole of the peasants across Shiganshina.” He stiffened at the accusation. All the bitterness that had risen within him suddenly deflated and Levi was left looking thoroughly conflicted. “I shall bring the tea to your chambers, sir.” He watched her turn, the porcelain chattering to the beat of her footsteps. Before moving through the doorway, she paused, gifting Levi one last glance. “He’s not his father, sir.” 

And then she was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! i'm really inspired by this fic rn so updates have been frequent. hopefully, i'll get around to updating to wey and lips like sugar soon!! 
> 
> [tumblr](http://fuzzyporcupine.tumblr.com)  
> [fanmix](https://8tracks.com/thespazzbot/lead-me-with-your-hands-tied)


	5. Chapter 5

The tea was cold before Levi could enjoy it. He found the pot sitting neatly atop a wooden desk near his bed, a white porcelain cup perched beside it. To be fair, it surprised Levi to see the set had been dropped off in his room. He figured that Petra would deprive him of it considering his brash behavior back in the studio. She had taken the tea with her after she exited the workshop, leaving Levi open-mouthed and speechless at her words. 

They were hard to swallow. Repeated endlessly in his mind until he was absolutely positive that the sentence would be permanently ingrained into his thoughts.

_“He is not his father.”_

The statement was hard to believe, especially after the prince’s pompous display. Even more so knowing who produced the bastard. Petra was probably ignorant to the truth, he supposed. Of course, the woman defended Eren Jaeger. She bloody worked for him. His lips pursed tightly as he yanked the white cravat from his neck. All these exasperating thoughts were giving him a damn headache. He knew that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, and the fucking maid wasn’t going to change his mind. 

Levi glanced down at the cravat wrapped tightly in his clenched fist. 

It just figured that the prince didn’t even need to open his boorish mouth to infuriate Levi. 

The stranglehold slowly loosened around the cloth, revealing a set of unattractive wrinkles set deep into the fabric. Levi’s brow ticked angrily at the sight. Ironing was always such a chore, the tool heavy and clunky to work. He was used to light brushes, not weighted iron. It was the reason why he took such great care to not crease his clothing. However, now it seemed as if he would have to swallow his pride and pay the housekeeper a visit. That is _if_ she would be willing to even entertain his presence. He really did have to work on his tact. Though that feat was easier said than done. Levi was a terrible conversationalist. And even worse at controlling his sharp tongue. That much had been made apparent by the way Eren stormed out of the studio. Levi faintly wondered if the prince confided the embarrassment to his father. Eren appeared way too prideful for that, however, as Petra so plainly put it, _“He is not as you have constructed in your mind, sir.”_

A scoff broke bitterly across his lips. 

No, Eren Jaeger was exactly as he’d constructed. Arrogant and spoiled. Completely unaware of the detriment his goddamned father had brought upon the kingdom. So, an idiot, as well. 

Indeed, the people of Shiganshina had a prime package in store for them after the king finally croaked.

He deposited the cravat onto the desk before his anger decided to ravage more of the cloth. Heavy-lidded eyes panned to the teapot still resting on top of the mahogany.

“Fuck it,” he breathed, turning sharply to exit the room. 

A cup of cold tea just wasn’t going to cut it tonight.

* * *

The air of the tavern smelled like a rancid combination of stale beer and bile. Levi’s nose wrinkled in disgust as he stepped around a patron snoozing soundly face-first on the muddy floor. Hoots and hollers of drunken idiots sounded off in multiple directions. Many were dancing poorly in the center of the alehouse, men and women linking arms and twirling in stumbling circles. Others could be seen banging their fists on the cheap wooden tables or clinking together full tankards of beer. 

It was a complete shithole, but a welcome change of scenery from the gaudy decor of the castle keep. Even if the majority of the customers were Shiganshina forces. 

He did his best to ignore the bubbling unease stirring in his gut as he walked to the bar. In the back of his mind, he knew this was a horrid plan. Being in a room with this many soldiers did nothing but cause his pulse to race and his blood to boil. Levi tried to reason that a drink would surely help cloud his mind well enough to forget about the guilt. At least for one night. 

“Mr. Ackerman!” The booming voice cut through the air like a beacon, and despite the knowledge of knowing just exactly who that call belonged to, Levi still turned his head. The general stood from his place at the bench, a large palm extended upward into a wave. Levi’s face twisted into a grimace, lip curling as he regarded the blond man. Instead of replying, Levi promptly ignored the caller, finding the thought of nursing a terrible drink much more appealing than the abysmal company. 

He slid into one of the empty stools placed sporadically in front of the bar. Pointy elbows lifted to rest atop the counter before he noticed the number of miscellaneous substances splattered across the surface. 

_Truly a complete shithole,_ he thought. 

“Irene, give my friend here a heavy pour.” Levi huffed irritably as he turned his head towards the man. He expected General Smith to pick up on the hint. Weren’t military officers supposed to be good at reading situations? 

“I don’t need your coin,” he spoke, tone sharp and unwavering. 

“Don’t be so sour, Mr. Ackerman. It’s impolite to deny such a small act of hospitality.” The man finished the sentence with a gleam of shiny straight teeth. All of which Levi wanted to ram his fists firmly through. 

“Hospitality,” Levi mockingly spit the word back at the general. Thought about the people locked outside the heavy iron gates. All the good that hospitality got them, huh?

“I would assume a man like you from Mitras would understand the meaning of the word.”

Levi grit his teeth, “Listen, you fucking-” 

“Ah, thank you, Irene.” Erwin passed a single gold coin to the portly woman as he reached for the full tankard. Foam sloshed over the edge and splashed loudly onto the countertop as the man slid the cup over to Levi. He caught it easily in his palm, fingers wrapping around the lukewarm mug. Thin lips fitted snugly around the brim as he took a swig, a cringe immediately making itself visible as he swallowed down the liquid. “It’s not exactly His Majesty’s wine, huh?”

Levi narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t some fancy noble who only lived off drink that tasted of sweet berries and flowers. He took another gulp.

“It tastes like damn horse piss.”

“That’s a kind description,” Erwin laughed, bringing his own mug up to his lips regardless. Levi hummed before returning to his drink. The unease in his gut had returned tenfold sitting next to the general. It felt like he was walking a very thin line of treason and camaraderie as he remained perched in the uncomfortable barstool, neither of which he felt very keen on exploring. “Why did you accept this commission, Mr. Ackerman?”

The question was a trick, it had to be. Some sort of convoluted way of getting Levi to admit secret desires that he’d been able to keep safely stored away inside his head. A manipulative query from an even more manipulative man. However, he was not some gossiping wench who spent their days fantasizing about the next public execution. 

A tight sigh blew out from his nose, rippling the beer in the tankard. “The coin.” 

“Hah! And you say you didn’t need mine? Why, Mr. Ackerman, I’m insulted.” 

His nostrils flared hotly as he turned to the man. “I don’t need the coin of some military pig who slaughters innocents on the king’s orders,” he whispered venomously. Levi’s eyes widened slightly with the admission.

_Shit._

At first, Levi almost believed that Erwin didn’t hear him. That his words were lost to the drunken merriment within the tavern. However, when the general’s expression darkened he knew the insult had been heard loud and clear. 

“You have an eye for war, Mr. Ackerman?” Erwin’s voice sounded different now. Cold. Calculated. It was enough to bring the hairs on the back of Levi’s neck to a peak.

His voice remained steadfast as he spoke, “I never said that.” But he said enough. Enough to out himself as one who openly detested the king’s commands. 

However, Erwin continued as if Levi hadn’t said a word. “Everyone thinks you are from Mitras, correct? It’s a fine town. Lovely people. However, I’m almost positive that Mitras has been wholly unaffected by the war.” Levi’s throat started to tighten as his grip around the mug strengthened. “No mass casualties besides the fools who throw themselves willingly onto a soldier’s blade. So, where are you _really_ from, Levi?” The breath sucked into the bottom of his lungs was short and sharp. Felt as if he had been doused with a bucket of icy water as cool, blue eyes analyzed his expression. 

Swallowing the ever-rising fear clawing at his chest, Levi schooled his face into a neutral look. “I think you should worry more about your soldiers shitting their pants from all this pig swill.” He swiveled his body out of the barstool, boots landing flatly in the dirt with a satisfying smack. Abandoning his nearly full mug, Levi resented that this night would surely end with him sipping cold tea instead of welcoming a much-needed buzz. Suddenly, a hand wrapped securely around his wrist. Instinctively, Levi wretched his limb away, the grip all too familiar to that of manacles attached to an iron chain.

“Do not fear, Mr. Ackerman. I believe our paths may be more linear than I originally suspected.” Levi could only offer a narrowed glare as the man vacated the seat and returned to the rowdy group of soldiers who cheered eagerly at Erwin’s return. 

_Bunch of bloody neanderthals,_ he thought with a sneer.

* * *

Despite it being the middle of summer, the air had taken quite a chill once the sun receded below the horizon. As it was now, Levi shivered once stepping foot outside the tavern walls. The walk back to the keep was not long, but he was positive that his bones would be brittle by the end of it. Wrapping his arms tightly around himself, Levi began his march back to his chambers. 

He’d only made it a few feet before a familiar shout managed to draw his attention to a dark corner shadowed by hay bales and wagons. Levi had never been a particularly curious boy. Always knew to leave well enough alone when well enough could send a knife between your ribs. This trait followed him into adulthood, and it had served him well thus far. So, it was completely perplexing as to why his movements began to drift toward the sound. 

Pressed up against the wall was a woman, her dress lifted scandalously against thick, voluptuous thighs. Legs were tangled securely behind the man’s back, jolting as he moved against her. The tailcoat thankfully protected the man’s modesty as Levi glanced down to spot breeches bundled gracelessly around tanned ankles. 

Levi knew he should leave. This didn’t exactly look like an intimate moment being shared between lovers, more like two souls just trying to enjoy release behind the courtyard stables. However, he was frozen. Eyes glued to the way the moonlight reflected off the woman’s upturned neck. The fingers digging bruises into the soft skin. Levi couldn’t look away. 

Maybe it was the beauty behind the act. The delicate lines that he could envision painted on a canvas. All sweeping motions that portrayed an act of love and not some meaningless roll in the hay. 

“Hey! What are you doing?” A feminine voice yelled out, breaking his imaginings as his eyes refocused on the sight. The woman looked horrified, hands adjusting the ruffles in her dress as she glanced at him with disdain. “You absolute cretin. Sneaking around the courtyard like this.” 

Levi was unperturbed by her comments, gaze hardening under her stare. He’d heard much worse in his lifetime, been called far crueler things. “Your squawking was hard to ignore. I thought a poor beast had been mangled behind the stables. Turns out I was only half wrong.” 

The woman’s face reddened, mouth opening and closing like a fish being tossed on dry land. 

“Don’t mind the artist, dear.” Still facing the wall, the prince adjusted himself, deft hands fastening the white breeches. When Eren turned around, it was with a sinful smirk that caused his jaw to tighten and palms to sweat. “He’s probably never fucked a woman before and was curious to see how it was done.” 

Levi’s teeth clenched so hard that he was sure the bones would break. 

Eren stepped forward, a lecherous look in the emerald stare. Despite the man’s best efforts, the clothes were still disheveled. A plum waistcoat was hanging open, the cloth shirt beneath it only buttoned halfway. His gaze betrayed him as Eren closed in, roaming across the exposed skin of the man’s upper chest. Tracing the lines from collarbone to abdominals. Levi swallowed hard lest he began to look like the wanton woman left against the mossy brick wall. Once the prince reached Levi, a hand reached out. Those nimble fingers he had watched skirt up the side of the canvas now latched themselves to his chin. “Am I wrong?” Eren’s breath reeked of booze and the man’s eyes were slow to focus. 

“You’re drunk,” Levi muttered, making a half-assed attempt to free himself from the prince’s grip. The man just squeezed tighter, and Levi imagined the unsightly bruise that would surely appear the next morning. Eren was lucky. If not for his royal blood, Levi would have already broken his wrist and sent him home wailing. Nevertheless, Levi let the boy king manhandle his face to meet a glazed expression.

“I would teach you. If you begged.” The confession was whispered into the night, darkly sweet and melting into his ears. A toothy smile spread across Eren’s face as Levi felt heat begin to extend across his cheeks. 

“You think too highly of yourself, Your Highness,” Levi sneered. 

The smile didn’t fade from the prince’s expression. Instead, a thumb lifted to trace Levi’s bottom lip as that lustful gaze flitted down to his mouth. 

“Perhaps you’re right, artist.” Then the hold was gone, the feeling of those long, nimble fingers leaving fire in their wake. The prince turned away, unsteady steps taking him back to the waiting woman. Eren wrapped an arm around her shoulder as they began to walk in the direction of the tavern. A hand was nonchalantly thrown up into the wind. “Get a good night’s rest, artist. I shall see you bright and early if my stomach allows it.” 

Levi watched as they moved further and further away until the pair disappeared behind the tavern doors. 

Left alone in the chilly summer breeze, Levi felt resolute in his thinking that, indeed, Eren Jaeger was just like his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the amazing support!! i can't believe that this fic has reached over 250 kudos! thank you to everyone who has left a kudo, bookmark, or comment. i wouldn't be writing without all of you so thanks again!!
> 
> [tumblr](http://fuzzyporcupine.tumblr.com)  
> [fanmix](https://8tracks.com/thespazzbot/lead-me-with-your-hands-tied)


	6. Chapter 6

The knock at the door had woken him with a start, loud and forceful as it echoed through the tiny room. The light shining in from the singular window blinded his sight, straining the already sleep-addled eyes. It couldn’t have been soon after dawn, and he had no idea who could possibly need to disturb him this early. Levi grumbled lowly as he sat up in the bed, throwing the furs to the side. Bare feet slid onto the stone floor, pale toes flexing on the ground. Dressed in only a thin white shift to cover his nakedness, Levi stepped to the large door. He unlocked it with quick, deft fingers, sliding the thick iron rod out of the latch. 

The hinges squeaked painfully as he tugged the entrance open. Levi expected to be greeted by an annoyed Petra, maybe even the frightened servant girl, though the latter seemed highly unlikely given the fright he had caused her. However, neither was standing beyond the entryway. The only people meeting his gaze were the goddamned Royal Guard.

A cold sweat began to form on the back of his neck as a twitchy thumb tucked into a sweaty palm. The men were decorated with fine golden armor and a green silken cloak that wrapped around their wide shoulders. The uniform was customary of the Royal Guard and signified their importance to the court. His eyes flicked down to the long silver swords and black slender rifles strapped menacingly to the soldiers’ sides and backs. Swallowing hard, Levi lifted his gaze back to brave the stone-faced men. He didn’t know what could have possibly warranted the Royal Guard to arrive at his doorstep. Perhaps Eren _did_ tell his father of Levi’s disrespect inside the studio. Perhaps this was a reckoning. 

The thought had Levi’s throat tightening. 

Regardless, Levi refused to be afraid. Fear was a terrible emotion. One that never seemed to do anything but scramble the brain and cause unneeded anxiety. He’d boarded that feeling up long ago and would be damned if he let it boil back up again. 

One of the guards shuffled. “His Majesty requests your presence.” That sounded ominous. 

He steeled himself, a pointed chin turned upwards, almost mocking. “May I be dressed or does His Majesty wish to see me prance about in my bedclothes?” If they were going to make an example of him, he’d rather it not be with his cock out.

The man’s gaze narrowed then drifted down to Levi’s bare legs. “Make haste. His Majesty does not like to wait.” 

Levi grunted, quietly closing the door behind him as the guards moved to stand against the wall. 

Well, wasn’t this just a right old mess? 

A thought of jumping out the window and making a run for it briefly fluttered through his mind before he disregarded the idea entirely. He had no notion if the king intended something sinister or just wanted to chat. Levi decided it was not worth snapping his ankles over. 

Pulling the shift over his head, Levi made quick work of getting dressed. If the king was truly impatient as the Royal Guard stated, then it was in his best interest to not dawdle.

The men were still standing outside when he exited the room. However, now he appeared to them much more decent - a linen shirt tucked nicely beneath the waist of his darkened breeches. 

Without so much as a verbal cue, the Royal Guard began to march towards where Levi assumed the king was residing. He found it a good sign that the men were not dragging him along by the backs of his arms. At least they weren’t yet, anyway. 

The grounds were ghostly as he was led through. Empty except for a few soldiers and a murder of crows squawking a venomous tune atop the ramparts. Leather boots sunk deep into the mud, the morning dew softening up the already well-trodden soil. It was impossible to tell which direction the guards were taking him based on the prints left in the dirt. There were so many of them, abandoned from weary horses being led to the stables and drunken soldiers stumbling in late from the tavern. Reminded him of a certain soaked fool whispering vulgar obscenities into his ear. 

_“I would teach you. If you begged.”_

Just the memory of the words had Levi’s jaw clenching. He’d never begged for anything in his life. Not when there had been a knife pressed flush against his throat. Not when a stingy noble threatened to dock his pay. Not even when he watched the colors of Shiganshina toss flames onto everything he loved. Shit would sooner rain from the sky before Levi Ackerman begged of anything from that bastard. 

“Through the door and up the stairs.” They’d stopped in front of one of the vast spherical towers attached to the curtain wall. Like a dark cloud on a stormy day, the structure cast a leaden shadow over Levi and the surrounding mud. He was close enough to the stone that if he looked up only brick and mortar would catch his gaze. Attached to the tower was a wooden door. Though not near as strong as the immense iron gate separating the village from the castle grounds, the entrance felt just as menacing. With a jaw still tightened, Levi strode forward and threw open the flimsy door with a hard tug. 

The spiral staircase greeted him immediately, grey stone steps coated with a layer of dust and debris. Soft footsteps echoed as he advanced upward, almost loud enough to drown out the obnoxious beating in his chest. By the time he reached the top of the tower, his thighs were burning fiercely and an unattractive sweat had formed above his brow. The men below did not tell Levi where he should head once reaching the top, but it was not hard to decipher. A trio of Royal Guard stood behind the king as the slouching man observed the dwindling village from atop the wall. Levi approached carefully, still unsure if the encounter would end with him thrown from the battlements. 

“I see the men have escorted you well.” The king continued to stare off into the distance as he spoke, voice mimicking the tiredness that dragged on the man’s expression. In the morning light, Levi saw the streaks of grey reflecting brightly against the dull brown on top of the king’s head. The war had aged the man, as most wars tended to do. 

“They have, Your Majesty,” Levi confirmed. 

The king hummed, thin hands gripping tightly around the edge of the wall. “I understand my son has proven to be quite difficult to work with.” Levi remained stone-faced and silent. He had no inkling of how to respond to such a loaded question. Should he remain quiet or let the king know how much of a complete idiot the prince was? Either choice seemed likely to offend. “Shall I find someone else more competent?” So, this was why the king sent for him. Not to toss him off the side of the wall or to swing a sword through his neck. But to humiliate him. 

Rage rose in him like a tide receding from the shore, thumbnail digging an angry crescent into his palm. Levi’s skill had proven him to be more than competent as an artist. His portfolio saw proof of that. What he wasn’t, however, was a goddamned babysitter, especially to an overgrown child such as the prince.

“No,” he bit out dangerously. The king turned to face him then. “I’m the best damned painter in this entire bloody kingdom. By three months’ end, you’ll be able to see that for yourself.” 

_Are you fucking delirious?_

That timeframe was impossible. Even with the best of clients, Levi typically wouldn’t have the piece delivered in under six months. And to cut that time in half? He had to be absolutely insane. That had to be it. Or maybe he just longed for death and wanted to feel the cool slice of a blade against his skin. Which might actually happen sooner rather than later. In his anger, Levi had taken several steps closer, prompting the Royal Guard to grab hold of the weapon hilts. The sight doused his anger like water over a fire. “Your Majesty,” he added quietly in the hopes that the soldiers would release their swords with the two words.

The king looked him up and down, an unimpressed stare settled within the wrinkles on the worn face. A hand was lifted and the sound of sheathed steel cut sharply through the air.

“By three months’ end,” the king said firmly. _Goddammit, Ackerman._ Levi nodded once, fist unclenching by his side. “You may leave.” He bowed his head, turning quickly on a booted heel. Before Levi could reach the archway, the king regarded him again. “And painter?” Levi cast a wary glance over his shoulder to find the man gazing back out again over the village. “Disrespect me again and I’ll have you flayed and dragged through the streets.”

Levi let out a nervous breath.

Of that, he had no doubt.

* * *

Levi had not been waiting in the studio long before Petra arrived. She brought with her a remorseful expression and news that the young prince was suffering an unfortunate bout of nausea and would not be attending the session. 

_Like hell he wouldn’t_ , Levi thought as his feet marched him closer to Petra. 

“Take me to his room,” he insisted, voice unyielding as the stone walls surrounding him. 

“But, sir, the prince is-” 

“Sleeping?” Levi interrupted. “It’s nearly midday, Ms. Ral.” 

“Yes, I understand, but-”

“If the prince is well and truly ill I shall send for a doctor. Now, please.” He looked at her expectantly, watching the way a plump bottom lip wiggled in between her teeth. The woman could easily refuse him. He had not been hired to snoop into the prince’s room. Levi was there to paint, and Petra surely realized this. However, he had only a limited amount of time to complete what was seemingly an impossible portrait. One that he was certain would get him killed if it was not finished on time. He couldn’t allow Eren’s wankered morning after to place any undue setbacks on the schedule. 

A tight sigh broke across her lips as she murmured, “Right this way, sir.” Levi’s shoulders relaxed as he followed the woman down the winding staircase. Her pace was brisk, hardly allowing him the opportunity to analyze the route they were taking. She said nothing as they ascended the great set of stairs in the foyer. Just continued marching until they had finally made it to a fine wooden door. “The prince is inside.” 

His eyes fell to the small iron handle of the entrance and then to the golden keyhole. “Is it locked?” 

Petra shook her head. “No, sir. His young Majesty only locks the door when…” She trailed off, cheeks flaring pink. _Ah, Levi understood._

“Of course,” he muttered. Levi silently wondered why Eren would even bother with locks considering the scene he witnessed the night prior. “Thank you for the escort.” He raised a fist to the door, giving it two sharp knocks before closing his hand around the handle. Hopefully, the warning would be able to alert the prince of his arrival. If not, well, Levi wouldn’t necessarily be surprised. 

“I shall let the guards know to ignore any screaming.”

Levi thanked her with a slight upturn of the lips as he pulled the door open and entered the bedroom.

The chambers were coated in a shadowy grey, the light from the window being held back by a thick curtain. A small table stood off to the side, a basket of uneaten fruit and a bronze pitcher sitting on top of the surface. A writing desk with a battered leg took up residence against the same wall. Miscellaneous papers were scattered everywhere atop the desk, leaving nary space vacant. Across the room, a large bed, about twice the size of his own, was fixed upon a risen platform of solid stone. Green silk cascaded around the poles holding up the canopy. Bundled in the middle amidst a pile of blankets and furs nestled the prince, a mess of brown hair sticking out from the depths of the sheets.

“Gods be kind, Petra. I said leave me be.” The voice didn’t hold quite the bite that he’s sure Eren was hoping, overly raspy from the man’s rambunctious night. Levi stepped closer to the talking lump, boots echoing off the stone floor as he went. He took in the figure moving slightly beneath the sheets, the gentle breathing causing the blankets to rise and fall in a steady motion. With swift hands, Levi gripped the coverings and ripped them from the bed, exposing the body beneath. 

“Are you completely mad, you daft wench?!” Eren screamed, hands reaching out to recover the lost warmth. They paused, though, when the prince noticed who exactly had pulled the silken linens from the bed. “What are you doing here?” Eren asked, wincing as he pushed himself up into a sitting position against the plush pillows. “Come to ravage me in my bed chambers?”

“Get up,” he stated plainly, not in the mood for the prince’s teasing. 

“Oh, I am _up_ , artist.” Levi resisted the urge to strangle the bastard, biting the inside of his cheek as he marched over to the curtained window. The fabric was pulled back, and Eren threw up a quick hand against the light. “Gods, you’re fucking cruel.” 

“ _Get up,_ ” Levi reiterated, voice almost a growl as it snuck between clenched teeth. He felt like punching something, preferably the prince’s stupid, smug face. 

“My, you are feisty today.” Eren grinned up wolfishly at Levi. “Did my father order you to speak so openly to me?”

“Your father ordered me to paint your portrait, _Your Highness_.” In only three months, he reminded himself. Though that fault fell on Levi’s own shoulders. 

Eren yawned loudly, arms stretching high up into the air. The movement caused the man’s nightclothes to shift up, exposing thick, tan thighs. Levi tore his eyes away, a red heat tickling his neck. He silently cursed his embarrassment. Levi had seen a man naked before. Many men in fact. The communal baths were not exactly the place one would go expecting modesty. So, to have such a reaction to this complete pig of a man was humiliating. “I told you,” the prince said in between yawns, “that I would be bedridden today.”

Levi scoffed, mortification long forgotten as he stomped over to the edge of the bed. “I have promised your father a complete portrait in three fucking months. I do not intend to disappoint him.” His tone was dangerously deadly, causing Eren to nervously drop outstretched arms in a covered lap. “I expect you in the studio within the hour, Your Highness.” He turned away, leaving the prince momentarily speechless. Upon reaching the doorway, Levi paused, looking back over his shoulder to find Eren staring back in his direction with wide eyes and an open mouth.

“You’re the Prince of Shiganshina. Act like it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry my penchant for slow builds is taking full control of this fic  
> it's out of my hands at this point
> 
> [tumblr](http://fuzzyporcupine.tumblr.com)  
> [fanmix](https://8tracks.com/thespazzbot/lead-me-with-your-hands-tied)


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